


Partners in Crime

by skygrove



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Bottoming from the Top, Handcuffs, M/M, Minor Violence, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dominant!jihoon but not really?, dorm!jihoon is a better description i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 17:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13012926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skygrove/pseuds/skygrove
Summary: Inspired by that one fansigning event where Jihoon looked like a cop.





	Partners in Crime

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little bit different than my other stuff and it gets a little rough so please please don't read if it makes you uncomfortable

Jihoon has been working a case for four weeks now, home sporadically and only to sleep, really. He passes out face first into the mattress and only wakes up when his cell phone goes off. Daniel makes him coffee (as he does every morning), and reminds him he needs to wash at some point. All Jihoon does in response is stumble around the apartment like a zombie and mutter what are most likely swear words when he knocks his shin on the sofa, and the table, and the TV stand, and the fridge door. Then he shuffles out the door and is gone, again, for two days straight.

Daniel wakes up on the third morning, a Saturday, alone again. He ends up making two cups of coffee out of habit and pours one down the drain. Then he leans against the counter with his coffee in his hand and thinks,  _huh_. He knows he signed up for this more than once - when he pushed Jihoon into joining the Academy, when he supported him through the years on patrol, when he encouraged him to go for Detective. But it's days like this when he starts to get a hollow feeling in his gut, like jealously...like  _neediness_.

 _Well_ … he thinks,  _this sucks_.

It's five-thirty in the afternoon already, and by seven he’s at a bar in Hongdae, halfway to being well and truly sloshed after many beers.

By eleven-thirty he's got bloodied knuckles and a bruised cheekbone and some scrawny vicious red-haired douche rolling around on the floor at his feet, hands clasped over his nose, screaming blue murder behind the mess of blood spilling over his fingers. By midnight he's cuffed and sat in the back of a squad car.

They shove him in an empty cell to cool off and that's when something in his chest churns and he drops Jihoon's name and says, "no, no, really. Call him." Then he kind of half passes out on the narrow cot and wakes up when the door screams open again. 

Jihoon actually looks awake, for the first time in weeks, clean and well dressed and very, very pissed off. "Daniel -" he says. "Drunk and disorderly. What the  _fuck_ , _hyung_."

Daniel waves one hand in the air vaguely. "You know I'm not one to start a fight, but that asshole had the punch coming." he explains.

The man in uniform outside the door – _Minhyun,_ his sluggish brain provides - rattles his keys and gives Jihoon a questioning look. "Yeah, yeah…" Jihoon says. "I'll take him."

He hauls Daniel to his feet and drags him out the door, leans him against the wall while he signs several forms and then drags him through another few doors and down a corridor and up a couple of flights of stairs and that's when Daniel realizes they're not actually heading outside. "Wait, where are we going?"

"Shut up." Jihoon says, and shoves him into a darkened room and face first into a wall, and then there's the cold click of metal around his wrists again. Then his legs are kicked out from under him and he ends up landing sharp and awkward on a chair, teetering unsteadily under him for a moment before he shifts his weight and it settles. The light flicks on, harsh and blinding, and he blinks against the sparks swarming over his vision.

"What the fuck, Jihoon." He makes to stand up, but Jihoon just pushes him back down. His eyes adjusted to the light now, he can see they're in one of the interview rooms, four chairs and a table, shabby off-white walls and dirty ceiling. Jihoon sits on the table in front of him, legs spread, feet propped up on the edges of the chair. His coat and sweater have disappeared somewhere, and Daniel watches as he pulls his shirt up over his head, the muscles in his stomach and chest stretching smoothly beneath his skin. "What are you doing?" he asks, voice coming out half-cracked and somewhere close to a whisper. Jihoon flings the shirt off to the side somewhere and leans forward, eyes bright.

"Don't tell me this wasn't what you wanted, pulling a stunt like that," he says. Gripping the side of the table, he toes his shoes off, kicking them to the floor with a couple of dull thumps.

"Ya, you can't be- no, no," Daniel says. He tries to stand up again, but Jihoon's bare foot lands hard in the center of his chest, and he sits back down with a soft whump of forcibly exhaled air. "What if someone catches us..." he hisses out, but Jihoon just gives him a withering look. His foot slides slowly down Daniel's chest, a steady pressure over his sternum, his navel, pausing just above his groin - then, abruptly, lifting off. Daniel chokes down a disappointed sound. He should not be giving into this; it's a very very bad idea. But he's half-hard already, has been since Jihoon took his shirt off, and the image Jihoon makes - sat on the edge of the table with his chest bare and his legs spread - defeats Daniel's protests before he can even voice them.

"I could lose my badge for this, you know," Jihoon says, and his feet push Daniel's knees apart harshly. "But you'd like that, wouldn't you, _hyung_?" His feet slide up the insides of Daniel's thighs, twin lines of teasing heat, drifting higher and higher. Daniel opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is something like a moan. He strains his hands against the handcuffs, the metal digging into his wrists uncomfortably, and Jihoon's toes finally brush against the fabric covering his cock. He shudders, hips jerking forward slightly, and then Jihoon's foot is pressed against him, solid heat against his cock, toes tracing out the shape of him through his jeans.

"Shit, Jihoon," Daniel says, head rolling back, hips rolling up into the pressure. It's stupid how hard he is, now, nothing but Jihoon's bare chest to give him any incentive. He's going to come soon - he can blame that on the alcohol - if Jihoon keeps up this steady massage and he can carry on with the short, staccato thrusts. He can feel it curling hot in his belly, cock twitching and jerking inside his jeans. 

But then, Jihoon's foot stops moving, starts pressing in, painfully pinning his hips down, crushing against his cock. His head snaps up, hips squirming backwards in the seat, trying to get away from the foot abusing him. "Fucking hell, what are you doing?!"

Jihoon just looks bored, his head propped up in one hand, other arm slung over his knees like his foot isn't currently causing Daniel agonizing pain. "I thought this was what you wanted," he says. "Getting drunk and getting arrested. Dragging me out through the rain at midnight back to this shithole. The only reason I can think of is to  _piss me off_." His foot grinds down harder with the last three words, and Daniel's vision goes a mix of black and red around the edges; he can't even breathe through it.

Finally Jihoon lets off, back to the painful pressure of before, but Daniel can gasp down air again without feeling like he's going to throw up. "I didn't go looking to get arrested, _Jihooni_ ," he says through gritted teeth. "I went out to drown my sorrows ‘cause I got tired of waiting around for your scrawny ass."

Jihoon leans forward, eyes wide with fake innocence. His foot shifts on Daniel's cock, and Daniel hisses out a swear word. "Are you saying that you missed me?" Jihoon asks, voice lacking all of the false sweetness he's got pasted across his face. But it's lacking everything else, too, actually sounding sincere, despite what he's doing to Daniel's delicate parts

Daniel grins, sharp and bloody; he thinks the pain's maybe getting too much now, like maybe he's on the edge of passing out

Then, suddenly, Jihoon's foot is gone from his cock, only to hit him solid and hard in the center of his chest, _again_. The chair tips backward, teetering on its back legs and losing out, falling back fast. He hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs harshly.

Jihoon is off the table, kicking the upturned chair away from him and his pants already undone, drooping low around his hipbones for a moment before he pushes them down and off. He's not wearing any underwear.

"Shit," Daniel says, squirming on the floor. The cuffs are digging into the skin of his wrists, digging into the small of his back, his elbows and shoulders protesting at the weight put on them. His cock throbs in some twisted mixture of dull pain and renewed arousal.

Jihoon straddles his thighs, sliding warm hands under his shirt and pushing it up to bunch under his armpits, exposing his chest and stomach. His hands frame Daniel's abs as he leans down, mouth and tongue and teeth playing with the skin around his navel, sending waves of warm shocks through Daniel's skin. His hands slide down Daniel's sides, coming to rest over the zipper of his jeans. Daniel hisses out between his teeth, torn between trying to get closer to Jihoon's mouth or away from his hands; he doesn't think he can trust them there, not yet. "That really hurt, you know," he says, and Jihoon nips sharply at the thin skin of his hipbone, hands already undoing Daniel's jeans and slipping inside.

"Good," he mutters, but his hands tell another story, fingertips stroking over him gently. There's still a persistent ache threading itself through his cock and the muscles of his groin, but he can't help responding to Jihoon's touch, and as he starts to harden in Jihoon's hand, the pain draws tighter, laced sharp with spikes of pleasure as Jihoon's strokes become more confident. He's never considered himself one for any type of masochism, but Jihoon has always been able to push him to dangerous extremes. The waves of pleasure washing over the deep-pressed ache of abused flesh sends skitters singing through his veins, until he can't really tell one from the other anymore. He lets loose a choked gasp, hips twitching, and Jihoon's hand stills. He looks at him, concern a flicker over his face that disappears in less than a moment, and then he's sliding the head of Daniel's half-hard cock into his mouth. 

It's more like a physical apology than a blowjob, his tongue moving in slow, soothing strokes, lips carefully curved over his teeth, big eyes half-lidded and dark as his looks up at Daniel through his lashes. He takes the whole length down slowly, sucking gently, his throat open as Daniel's cock slides into it.

Daniel strains against the handcuffs, wanting to dig his hands into Jihoon's hair, to cup his head and feel the shape of his cock through his cheeks as they hollow out. His shoulders jerk, and Jihoon slides back up, tongue flicking once over the head before pulling away completely. "No permanent damage," he says, amusement plain in his eyes, fingers tracing up the underside of Daniel's erection, now fully hard. Daniel bares his teeth in reply, but Jihoon ignores him, reaching for his discarded pants and pulling a condom and a packet of lube out of the pocket.

He's ripping the condom open with his teeth and Daniel opens his mouth to protest - his arms are starting to ache now, and it's probably going to be hell on his shoulders if he's fucked like this - but Jihoon twists the rubber down over Daniel's cock and Daniel shuts his mouth. Jihoon glares, but he doesn't say anything as he opens the packet of lube, smoothing the whole lot over Daniel's cock

He shifts forward, one hand braced on Daniel's chest and the other lining him up, lowering himself and Daniel just feels the give of his body when he's opening his mouth- "Wait wait, Jihoon-ah, the cuffs…"

"No," Jihoon says, and then he's pushing down, gritting his teeth, thigh muscles flexing and the line of his neck sharp and taut. 

Daniel has to fight not to buck his hips. Jihoon is so tight around him; he hasn't stretched himself well, and it's been so so long since they've done this anyway - just a few sleepy handjobs the rare times they'd ended up in bed together, a blowjob or two in the shower. It hadn't ever really been about the sex for Daniel, just needing to remember what Jihoon's skin felt like under his, the way his body responded, what the sweat that gathered across his stomach tasted like… 

But now, he can't even touch, hands caught tight behind his back as Jihoon arches, takes the last of him in, breath coming short before his thighs strain and he lifts himself back up again, pushing down hard. His head tilts back, sweat gleaming across his collarbone and chest, the arched curve of his exposed throat an invitation Daniel can't take.

He bucks instead, bracing his feet and thrusting up as Jihoon sinks down. His trapped hands scratch at the floor beneath him, clawing for purchase, frustrated and desperate to touch Jihoon's skin. "Jihoon, Jihooni," he gasps out, Jihoon leaning back to curve his hands against Daniel's thighs, bracing himself to move better.

" _Ah,_ _yeah_ ," he says, but it's more of a sigh, an exhalation of breath. He meets Daniel's stunted thrusts smoothly, pupils blown and eyes caught dark. His cock curves up against his belly, hard and untouched, leaking precome in clear trails. Daniel groans, deep and low in his chest, watching the muscles of Jihoon's chest and stomach as they bunch and flex, his thighs tensing and taut, his cock jerking and twitching with each downward press to Daniel's body.

He's already close again, and really, it should be better than this, but it's been so long and Jihoon is so tight around him, lithe and gorgeous as he writhes over him, body flushed and gleaming, eyes and cock dark with pleasure. He wants to touch, so so badly…press fingertips and thumbs into all the dips and spans of smooth skin that he knows make Jihoon arch and shudder, run his mouth down his chest, teeth and tongue and lips and bring him off, hot and shaking. His wrists twist against the cuffs, fingers scratching at the skin of his own back as dark heat claws itself through his skin, bunching and thundering through him, and he thrusts up in the smooth give of Jihoon's body and can't, can't- _can't_  hold on anymore. He comes, back arching and hips jerking, muscles shaking, the back of his head hitting the floor so hard he can feel it behind his eyes.

"Fuck, Daniel – ahh - _hyung_ " Jihoon is saying, and when Daniel's vision stops blurring so much he can see Jihoon curved out over him, thrusting into his hands, now, hips jerking erratic and desperate. He comes in long pulses over Daniel's bunched up shirt, across his chest and bare stomach, body trembling and tightening down around Daniel's softening and over-sensitive cock. Daniel grits his teeth against the discomfort, more interested in watching Jihoon as the tension slides out of his body, limbs turning smooth and liquid.

Eventually, he gets his breath back, and pulls off of Daniel slowly, holding the condom in place. He stands on legs that don't seem quite up to taking his weight, pulling his pants over and pulling the key out of the pockets, crouching behind Daniel and undoing the cuffs.

As soon as he's free, Daniel rubs his wrists - sore and red in broad lines around the narrowest part - pulls the condom off his dick and ties it. Then he catches Jihoon's arm, dragging him around and crushing his mouth against his, the same thrill running up his spine after all these years when Jihoon's mouth opens and Jihoon kisses back, sharp and fighting, teeth and tongue and wet smooth heat. They break apart, but Daniel's arms stays tight around Jihoon's. 

"Hyung, let's go home…" Jihoon says, breath warm against the skin under Daniel's ear, softly kissing the area. Daniel's eyes drift closed for a moment, revelling in the heat of Jihoon against him, his skin beneath his fingertips, before letting go with a small smile.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah uh hope you enjoyed


End file.
